Over The Moon
by Lunavere
Summary: John Watson finally becomes John Moriarty, and he's just starting to get used to it... and understand all that it entails.


**Author's Note: **This is my original work, and if you see it reposted on here or basically anywhere else save for my AO3 account, please report it and inform me immediately!

* * *

"Jesus Christ," John complained as he flopped onto the bed. "I thought we would never escape from your family!"

"_My_ family," Jim scoffed. "Your sister was the one who was practically attached to your side now that her 'baby brother is all grown up and married off.'" He did a near perfect imitation of Harry's high-pitched voice.

John rolled his eyes and retorted, "Your brothers were insistent that I go shooting with them sometime. Because _that_ won't trigger my PTSD."

"If you had listened to my advice, that would have never happened," Jim snapped.

John winced slightly and broke Jim's gaze. Jim had desperately tried to convince John to get out of the army while he could and not go overseas, but John had felt like it was his calling. When he was shot and survived, Jim nearly killed him when he finally got home. Ever since then, it had been a sensitive subject, and John didn't want to get into it on their wedding night.

Softly, John conceded, "I know that, Jim, but it's too late to change anything."

After a moment's pause, Jim pointed out, "They just want to make you feel like you're part of the clan now."

"The Moriarty Clan," John groaned out, grinning up at Jim. "Who would have thought that it would happen?"

Laughing, Jim responded, "I certainly did not. I remember being paired with you in Biology, and I begged the teacher to just let me work on my own. He wouldn't have it."

John grinned as he remembered his first year at university as well. He had been so nervous going into that class, and he wasn't sure what to make of Jim when they were first paired together. At the time, Jim was distant and aloof, never saying more than a few words before shutting down completely and focusing on the task. Even so, John continued to break down Jim's barriers until they were finally friends. One drunken night, they had become more than that. Now, here they were: married and in their honeymoon suite for the night before leaving for Mexico tomorrow afternoon.

"I'm glad," John finally said as Jim lay down next to him. He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around Jim's waist and pulling him in closer. Gently, he kissed Jim's temple before hooking a leg over Jim's to anchor him there. "I still can't believe you convinced me to take your last name."

Nestling into John's body, Jim hummed for a second. "Suits you better. John Moriarty. Sound much more powerful than Jim Watson ever would." He shuddered jokingly at the thought. "Besides, I was the one who proposed to you."

"Oh, so the one who proposes dictates the surname of the other?" John challenged teasingly.

Kissing the hollow of John's neck, Jim wrapped his arms around him possessively. "I want everyone to know that you're _mine_," he confessed.

"And what's wrong with you being mine?"

"Because no one ever thought that I would-!" Jim exclaimed before stopping himself from continuing.

He didn't have to finish the sentence for John to understand. No one had thought that Jim would ever get married. That Jim would ever find someone who loved him. Not romantically, at least. And John knew that it was important for Jim, which was enough of a reason for John to change his last name.

"And yet, here I am," John pointed out with a smile.

"And yet, here you are. Just further proving what an idiot you are," Jim jested lightly, trailing his hand through John's hair.

John leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Jim's forehead, letting his lips linger there longer than needed. Jim leaned into the touch instinctively, silently prompting John to continue. Slowly, John dipped his head down and captured Jim's lips. The kiss was chaste, and John broke it before it could become anything more. He then kissed Jim again and again and again, each time lightly and lovingly, never allowing anything more than that. Finally, he nibbled at Jim's bottom lip. Jim immediately complied, opening his mouth greedily to let John inside his mouth. John playfully swiped his tongue at Jim's before slowly and meticulously exploring Jim's mouth once more – reacquainting himself with the feel and taste. Breaking the kiss for a breath, John stared down at Jim, who was wide-eyed and panting, with a soft smile on his face. He left open-mouthed kissed along Jim's jaw before locking onto Jim's neck, just next to his Adam's apple. Sucking and nipping softly, he left a love bit there, where it could be seen by all, and licked it afterwards, as if that would soothe it.

Meanwhile, his hands travelled the expanse of Jim's chest to the buttons on his shirt. Slowly, he unbuttoned the entire shirt and pulled it off Jim's body. He then shifted up and straddled his new husband. Leaning down, he trailed soft kisses from Jim's neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest. Jim gasped and arched his back as John grazed his left nipple with his teeth. His hands dug into the sheets, gripping them so hard that his knuckles turned white. Trailing his hands across Jim's flat stomach, John caressed his way until his fingers could knead both of Jim's nipples. They pinched and rubbed, and Jim let out a soft moan. Suddenly, his legs shifted apart, and his hips gave a thrust into the air, grinding his erection against John's. Despite himself, John let out a soft groan. He shifted downwards, releasing Jim's nipples despite the whine Jim gave in response, and he carefully undid Jim's belt and trousers.

"You're gorgeous," John murmured, his eyes flickering up to Jim's face. By now, his own cock was hard and aching for attention. Even so, it could wait.

Jim flushed from the praise just as he always did. For whatever reason, he couldn't handle it when John spoke his mind to him, as it was sincere in every way possible. But John knew that Jim needed to hear those words from someone. Tugging down Jim's trousers and pants, John removed the last of the clothing before nestling in between Jim's legs. He licked Jim's cock from base to tip, letting his tongue slowly glide across the hot, hard flesh. Moaning, Jim tossed his head back for a moment as John teased the slit at the top with his tongue. John grinned and sank back down, kissing the insides of Jim's thighs. Without warning, he bit down on a section of the skin, sucking cautiously in order to leave yet another mark on Jim. Jim's cock twitched as he let out a loud groan, his hips thrusting down in the process.

Feeling rather proud of himself, John shifted back up. "I still can't believe that you're my husband," he murmured huskily before kissing the side of Jim's cock. "I still can't believe that you are bound to me. That I have such a perfect man for myself."

Beet red, Jim responded, "I'm not perfect. I'm flawed, just like every human being."

"Beautifully flawed," John corrected before lapping at the head of Jim's cock. His hands grabbed Jim's balls and began to knead them, fondling and lightly pulling at them. Jim's back arched again as he let out a loud moan. Suddenly, John's cock gave a twitch of interest as it attempted to escape the confines of his trousers. "God, Jim, the things you do to me. You don't even know how much you affect me with even the smallest movements. The way your hands clench the sheets, the way your hips thrust up in need, the way you toss back your head and moan. Every movement just takes my breath away because it's just so astounding that _I _am the one who makes you feel this way."

By now, Jim tossed an arm over his eyes in order to hide himself from John's view. John didn't mind – before he came around, no one really praised Jim for anything – his brilliance, his beauty, or his talent… And even years later, Jim never knew how to properly respond to it. John was slowly changing that, though. Every time, Jim would be a little less embarrassed by it, wouldn't hide quite as quickly as he did before, and would smile despite himself at hearing it. Quickly, John dipped down and took the head of Jim's cock into his mouth, sucking on it and teasing the tip with his tongue. Jim breathed in deeply as John did so.

"John," he moaned out. His tone easily conveyed his need for more.

Slowly, John slid down to the base of Jim's cock. Once he was done there, he froze and swallowed around it, letting his mouth and throat constrict. Jim's fingers dug deeper into the sheets as he clearly fought to keep his self-control. Gradually, John began to bob his head up and down, taking Jim entirely into his mouth and letting him hit the back of his throat. His speed began to increase over time until John was sucking as roughly and quickly as he could. Jim was moaning underneath him, writhing against the mattress. Even now, John continued his measured movements – the rough suck up, the firm squeeze of Jim's bollocks, the press down to the base, the swallow, the knead of one of Jim's balls before moving to the next, and repeat.

"Oh, fuck, John, I'm- I'm-" Jim tried to warn.

John found it endearing that Jim always tried to give him a chance to pull back if he didn't want to swallow Jim's seed. Of course, John always sucked out every last drop he could get. With one last squeeze of Jim's balls, John felt Jim shudder before the warm, salty spray of sperm hit the back of his throat. John swallowed what he could, sucking Jim through his orgasm, before pulling off and licking his lips. Looking down at him, Jim let out a low moan.

"You always taste so good," John murmured huskily.

"Then let me have a taste," Jim responded, grabbing the back of John's neck and pulling him forward. Their lips met, and Jim eagerly delved into John's mouth, groaning as he did so. Humming contently, John let Jim explore as he pleased before letting out a whimper of need. Jim broke the kiss, his eyes wide, and answered teasingly, "Oh, of course. I forgot."

With that, his hand reached down and undid John's trousers before slipping inside. John gasped and moaned, leaning into Jim as his cock was pulled out of its cage. Spreading around the pre-cum as much as he could, Jim began to stroke John slowly. John's mouth latched onto Jim's neck, leaving soft kisses and nips as Jim's hand began to finally pick up speed. Moaning, John pressed his face into Jim's neck as his hips began to move with the strokes.

"Jim," he groaned out.

Slowing down, Jim murmured, "I want you to remember that you chose this. You chose to be my husband. You chose to be mine." His thumb slid over the glans, and John groaned in response. "You had your chance to escape, and you threw it away. We're going to be together until _death do us part_."

"I know, Jim," John whimpered out, wanting to just come already. "I know. I'm not going to leave you. What will it take for you to believe that?"

Jim gave a rough pull before murmuring, "I believe you, John. I believe you." It sounded like there was more he wanted to say, something dwelling underneath his ordinary exterior. Honestly, John had seen it there for years – a darkness bubbling up in Jim that would only be suppressed when John was around. It was at times like these, though, that John remembered that it still existed.

Suddenly, John felt Jim's hand leave his cock. He let out an exclamation of disapproval before feeling Jim shove him back into the mattress. In a flurry of movements, John was left naked, on his back, and with his cock aching to be touched again. Jim slid a finger into his mouth, taking his time to wet it before circling John's hole. Breath hitching, John let out a groan as he felt the finger slip in and strike his prostate. He widened his legs to give Jim better access, and he let out a moan of appreciation when Jim began to stroke his cock again as well. Between his prostate being played with and his erection receiving much needed attention, John couldn't keep himself from bucking and moaning. Too soon – far too soon – he felt his stomach knot up painfully tight. He came hard into Jim's hand, crying out Jim's name in the process. Coming down from his high, he let out a soft groan and smiled at Jim dreamily.

Removing his hand, Jim leaned down and kissed John. "You look so perfect like this," he murmured softly.

"Sweaty?" John jested before giving Jim a small peck on the lips.

"I'll have you remember that I'm still covered in cum," Jim pointed out, motioning towards his stomach.

John smiled and responded, "If it bothers you that much, go shower."

"Come with me," Jim ordered gently.

With a sigh, John rose from the bed and followed Jim into the bathroom. Jim turned the shower on, letting it heat up, before he turned around and pulled John into him. "I apologise for earlier. With all of that possessive talk. Sometimes, I just forget myself. I forget that you would never betray me."

"It's fine," John reassured him, smiling.

Jim stepped into the shower, testing the water before allowing John in after him. Starting at his jaw, John left a trail of nips and kisses down his neck as he began to wash off the cum on Jim's chest. Jim hummed softly, letting his eyes flutter shut. Taking his time, John made sure to clean off Jim's stomach and chest before washing his legs, back, and arms. Once he was done, Jim took the rag from him and began to wash him off as well.

Finally, John broke the silence, "Do you remember the first night you actually spoke to me?"

"The one in the rain?" Jim clarified.

"Yeah," John conceded. It had been pouring down rain, and they were let out of lab late. John, who hadn't checked the weather, was without an umbrella or jacket to wear. So Jim opened up his umbrella and told John to either get under and keep up or to make a break for it. At the time, the choice was obvious. "I had thought at the time that you would just walk with me partway, and then we would separate when appropriate. I never thought that you would actually walk me back to my dorm."

Shrugging, Jim answered, "It was no big deal. Besides, I was the one with the umbrella."

"It was a big deal, and you know it," John jested, grinning up at Jim. Jim just shrugged a shoulder and returned to cleaning John up. "Don't just brush it off. You walked and talked with me the whole way. Mind you, I had to keep the conversation going, but still…"

Jim replied, "I don't think that night was nearly as significant as the one when you got pissed and kissed me on the mouth. I can still taste the beer on my tongue, you know."

"You cannot," John objected defensively. "And I wasn't _that_ drunk, you know."

"You were pretty hammered," Jim responded teasingly as he finished washing John up.

"I was not!"

"Were, too!"

Pouting, John stated, "I was sober enough to know what I was doing."

"You were just relieved I kissed back and didn't punch you in the jaw," Jim pointed out. John grumbled under his breath, glaring at Jim. Before he could turn away, though, Jim laughed and wrapped him in an embrace. "I was relieved, too, you know. That you liked me back. At first, I thought I was just dreaming. Or hallucinating. I didn't think it could actually be happening."

John laughed as he heard this. "I can imagine. I had one hell of a body back then," he joked.

"You still have a nice body." Jim ran his fingers across John's flat stomach, as if that would prove his point.

"Well, I did try to keep a bit of it for you."

Turning off the shower, Jim hummed noncommittally before grabbing the towel. "It's a bit strange, don't you think?"

"What is?"

Jim shrugged and handed John a towel. "This. Us. Marriage. I'm still a bit shocked by it all. It… doesn't feel any different."

"Was it supposed to?" John pressed. Jim never did handle emotions well, after all. He found them complicated and confusing.

"I thought so."

Smiling, John replied, "How long had we been dating, Jim?"

"Six years, two months, and five days."

"And how long have we been having sex?"

Jim blinked. "Six years, one month, and three days."

"And how long have we been living together?"

"Four years, nine months, and eight days," Jim told him.

John started to dry himself off, taking his time. "So we've been remarkably intimate with one another for at least the last four and a half years. You know almost everything there is to know about me, and I about you. The only thing that a marriage changes is our taxes. Nothing else. We're still the same two men who fell in love. We're still going to have the same old spats and stresses."

"Then why get married?" Jim inquired. It wasn't an accusation, but a mere curiosity.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, John answered, "Because I believe that someone thought it was important to let everyone know I was his?" Jim chuckled as he heard this. "And because I want it to be official in every way, shape, and form. So that if something happens to you or me, we would have all rights over medical treatment. So we can be buried next to each other without question. I want to be able to proudly introduce you as my husband."

Jim flushed slightly and glanced away. "I think I like that," he said after a moment's pause.

John laughed. "Of course you do."

Another long moment of silence passed between them as they headed back into the bedroom. John opened one of their suitcases and pulled out a pair of pants and a T-shirt. Heading over, Jim reached down and pulled out a pair of pants for himself. "I'm just glad we never have to sleep in separate beds again. Last night was so painful…"

"Hm?" John inquired, looking up as he pulled up his pants. "Why do you say that? Can't sleep without me in your arms or something?" His voice was light and teasing. Jim paused a moment, hesitating. That in and of itself told John the issue, and he grimaced. "Oh. That bad, was it?"

"Even worse because I couldn't open the door. I was just short of kicking it down when you finally stopped," Jim replied as he slipped into his pants.

John pulled on his shirt, covering the scar, and murmured, "High stress situations trigger me sometimes. My apologies for doing that to you."

"You shouldn't feel the need to apologise. It's not like you have any control over it. But if we can, I would appreciate it if we never had to sleep apart again."

"Jim Moriarty, the hopeless romantic," John joked, trying to lighten up the mood. He stood up and gave Jim a small peck on the cheek. "Don't worry. We'll only have to sleep separately if you make me mad and get thrown out of our bedroom for the night."

Quirking an eyebrow, Jim echoed, "_I _get thrown out of our bedroom for the night? Oh, no. You will not be throwing the great Jim Moriarty out of his own bedroom."

"The _great_ Jim Moriarty, eh?" John reiterated. "We'll see how great you are after spending the night on the sofa!" With that, he turned and grabbed a pillow before chucking it at Jim, who caught it. "Great, big, cocky, bloody git."

"Whom you love," Jim pointed out as he headed over to his side of the bed and set his pillow back down. Sliding into bed, he pulled the duvet up and opened his arms. "How about we get some proper sleep tonight?"

John smiled softly before heading over and slipping in next to Jim. Shifting down, he nestled into Jim's arms and closed his eye. He focused on Jim's heartbeat, how steady and strong it was. For a brief moment, his brain acknowledged the fact that this heart would stop someday. He shoved those thoughts back as he focused again, this time on Jim's breathing – rhythmic and soothing. Slowly, John felt himself drift off to sleep, needing nothing more than Jim himself next to him.

The next morning, John woke up to the beams of sunshine streaming through his window and the sound of the alarm going off. Not a single nightmare had plagued him.


End file.
